


Afterlife

by Anonymous



Series: KomaHina Requests [2]
Category: Dangan Ronpa - All Media Types
Genre: Grief/Mourning, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Post-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-02
Updated: 2021-03-02
Packaged: 2021-03-14 14:15:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,217
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29793165
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: It's the anniversary of his parents' deaths. Nagito is used to being alone for moments like this.
Relationships: Hinata Hajime/Komaeda Nagito
Series: KomaHina Requests [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2188227
Comments: 2
Kudos: 87
Collections: Anonymous





	Afterlife

**Author's Note:**

  * For [That_Adorable_Fox](https://archiveofourown.org/users/That_Adorable_Fox/gifts).



> > H...Hajime comforting Nagito on the anniversary of his parents death pls? 🥺👉👈 some good ol hurt/comfort :D
> 
> I hope you like it ^^; 

Nagito’s parents had died when he had been nothing more than a child. He had missed them, of course, cried himself silly for months on end in a large and lonely house, until it felt even his tears turned numb. As the years passed, Nagito eventually realized that grief and despair would be his forever lot in life if he let it, so he turned to hope instead, clung to it, and rarely ever thought about his parents again.

Except on this specific day.

Nagito had grown up perpetually alone; he celebrated birthdays and holidays alone, mourned deaths and tragedies alone. He was quite used to it. The anniversary of his parents’ deaths approached at the end of summer, though Nagito would never have been able to tell with the tropical weather if it weren’t for the large insistent calendar that hung in the common area and pretended at some notion of normality. The Remnants could very well have torn up all the calendars and destroyed the clocks and created a world where time itself stopped if they felt like it, drifting eternally and untouchable on an idyllic island in the midst of a destroyed world — but they didn’t.

The Future Foundation claimed that the worst of the Tragedy had died down, but the sky that stretched above the island still bled red with pollution, and Nagito could never forget the things he had seen and done. It felt wrong to grieve specifically for his parents, who had led relatively happy and full lives before Nagito had destroyed them, while not grieving everyday for the hundreds… thousands… who had otherwise suffered because of him.

Despite all that, Nagito still found himself standing silent and alone on the west coast of the island that morning, staring out at the red ocean and imagining those two distant graves. He had used to visit them every year when he was younger. Now they were far out of reach, beyond him, in a graveyard that may not even exist anymore, buried underneath a multitude of new dead. As a child, Nagito had both hated and loved those twin gravestones. Now, he would never touch that irreproachable granite again.

“Nagito!”

Nagito closed his eyes. Perhaps if he ignored the call, it would simply blow away with the wind — but no, this was Hajime, and Nagito was not in the habit of lying to himself.

“Hey,” Hajime said, closer and quieter now. Nagito’s eyes were still closed, but he felt the firm hands on the skin of his right forearm and the facsimile of touch against his robotic left. Hajime was prying the metal fingers off his pale skin and he hissed at the dark bruises he must have found underneath. “Oh, Nagito…” he said. “Why?”

Nagito couldn’t speak; his breath kept getting caught short and high in his throat. A shuddering wheeze finally broke through. For a moment Nagito thought he was laughing, and then he felt a hot wetness sting underneath his closed eyes and was horrified to realize he was crying.

Crying? For what?

For those two blurry ghosts from his childhood? For the only people who might have loved him, and met their ends because of it?

He didn’t deserve to cry over that.

Perhaps he was crying for Hajime, whose warm arms were wrapping around Nagito now, indecipherable murmurs in Nagito’s ear and the prickle of his spiky hair against Nagito’s cheek.

“C’mon, Nagito,” Hajime was saying. “Deep breaths… Count with me, okay… One, two…” his hand went up and down Nagito’s back, a comforting pressure even through the layers of his shirt and jacket. Nagito couldn’t help but listen. He hiccupped and felt his breathing finally begin to stabilize. “Good job… Can you look at me now?”

 _No_ , Nagito wanted to say, didn’t want to pull away and open his eyes to see a red sky, a red ocean, a single red eye… but no, he must, because Hajime asked.

Hajime was looking at him with undisguised worry, his mouth set into a familiar, pensive frown.

How sad, to always be the cause of Hajime’s frowns!

“Nagito, what’s wrong?” Hajime asked, his voice carefully inquisitive.

“Oh,” Nagito choked out. “It’s no big deal, really,” he said, his mouth pulling into a smile despite himself, sharp and painful on his cheeks, though the hoarseness of his voice betrayed him.

Hajime shook his head. “I don’t believe that,” he said. He was still holding Nagito’s left hand, Nagito realized, fingers tracing over the grooves in the metal. “You’re not the type to cry for no reason, but I won’t force it out of you, I guess.”

Nagito laughed at that. It startled both of them. “How gracious of you, Hajime,” he said. They were quiet for a long moment, and then, “Ah… I suppose… I merely remembered that today is the anniversary of my parents’ deaths. How odd, to cry over something so…” he lost the word he was looking for, all the options closing his throat up again.

He was surprised by another hug, this one fierce and gripping. To have received two hugs from Hajime in such a short timespan — this must have been one of Nagito’s luckier days.

“It’s perfectly normal to feel sad over something like that,” Hajime said. There was an odd shakiness to his voice.

“Hm?” Nagito murmured. “Do you really think so? Well, if Hajime says it, then it must be true.”

Hajime gave a little huff at that, but he squeezed Nagito even tighter. Nagito couldn’t help but hug him back, though he was careful to keep his touch light against Hajime’s back.

“Let’s go back now, okay?” Hajime said softly after several long moments. Nagito’s heart squeezed at that. He didn’t want to let go. He didn’t want to be alone again, he didn’t want to cry by himself again. “You need to rehydrate after all that, and don’t think I didn’t notice that you skipped breakfast.”

“No, that’s alright, Hajime,” Nagito said, finally letting his hands fall away and lifting his head from where it had been resting in the crook of Hajime’s neck. “You can head back. I feel much better now, anyway.”

Hajime stepped away and gave him an intent look. “That’s not true,” he said. Nagito gave him a guilty smile and Hajime huffed again. “Seriously…” he said. “I haven’t had breakfast yet either, you know. I came looking for you.”

“Oh! My apologies, Hajime —”

“No, no. I was _worried_ about you, Nagito,” Hajime’s expression was half exasperated, half imploring. “I don’t want you to skip breakfast and cry alone on the beach. It’s okay to be sad and I won’t make you eat a lot if you really don’t have an appetite, but I want you to know that you don’t have to be sad by yourself. I’m right here… if you… want me to be…”

“Hah. Are you offering to spend the day with me? This really is my lucky day.”

Nagito could see the usual argument spark up in Hajime’s face, but the other man simply shook his head. “If you say so,” he said instead. “Now come on.”

Hajime's hand was still interlocked with Nagito’s own, and he gave it a gentle tug. Nagito turned his back to the ocean and followed.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! Please consider leaving a comment if you enjoyed it :)


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